


Fold You In Two

by wesleysgirl



Series: Let the World Spin [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-27
Updated: 2012-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-06 02:56:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleysgirl/pseuds/wesleysgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Tinpanalley's birthday.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Fold You In Two

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tinpanalley's birthday.

"I don't want to wait," Dawn pouts, letting her lower lip jut out even further than usual because she knows it makes Spike crazy.

"Don't be a brat," Spike tells her. He comes over, though, shirt hanging open down the front and the button of his jeans undone, and takes her into his arms. "You heard what Wes said -- even if we got some of those tests, they probably wouldn't be any good anymore. S'not worth the risk."

Dawn knows he's right, but that doesn't really change anything. She also knows that if she presses Spike long enough, he'll agree to go find as many pregnancy tests as he can, regardless of the danger. And they're all right -- it's not worth that. Just because Spike is a vampire, that doesn't mean he's invulnerable, and no matter how much she wants to know for sure, she doesn't want him to get hurt. "Okay. I know. I just... it's hard, you know? Waiting."

"I know, pet. But I don't want you getting yourself all upset if it didn't work." Spike smoothes her hair back.

It's been four weeks since her last period, and she's really regular, so it's not like they're going to have to wait a _lot_ longer. But last month there was the waiting and then the disappointment when she'd started to bleed, and she'd shut herself into the bedroom and cried for like two hours. Then Spike came back from fixing fences and found her, all snotty and red-faced and gross, and he hadn't even cared, just held her and let her cry.

So anyway, she gets why he doesn't want a repeat of that. She doesn't, either.

Across the hall, Xander comes out of his and Wes's bedroom and stops, looking at them. "Uh-oh," he says. "Is it...?"

"No," Dawn says. "I'm just nervous. We don't know."

Xander relaxes visibly. "Good. I mean... good." He adjust his eye patch and tucks in his shirt. There are things there on his face that he doesn't say, but they've all talked about it enough that Dawn's pretty sure she knows what he's thinking.

"What?" Wesley calls from downstairs, where he's putting dinner together. It's summer and they're pretty much living on the garden; it's been so hot that even the thought of cooked food makes Dawn sweat, and not the sexy kind of sweat, either.

"Nothing," Xander calls back.

"We're coming down," Dawn says, and kisses Spike quickly. "Come on, slowpoke."

Even with her hair put up, the back of Dawn's neck is damp as she moves her salad around her plate. She's lost in thought and doesn't notice Wesley's hand next to her water glass until it's pulling away, leaving a small package wrapped in a paper bag behind.

She looks up at him, startled. "Um...?"

"Open it," Wesley tells her.

Her hands tremble as she unfolds the top of the bag and reaches inside. The box is light, and she knows what it is before she sees it. "I thought you said they wouldn't work anymore," she says, her voice small, as she looks at the pregnancy test.

"It might not," Wesley says. "If you'd rather not try --"

"What are you nuts?" There are tears in Dawn's eyes, but she's smiling. "Can I? I mean, I shouldn't wait a couple of days or anything?"

"You shouldn't need to." Wesley is the one who knows, so he's the one she listens to. If she _is_ pregnant...

Nope, no thinking about it. Dawn pushes back her chair and stands up; Spike gets up, too, automatically. It's not a chivalry thing, he just goes where she goes, mostly, and it pretty much never occurs to her to complain.

The outhouse that Xander and Spike built isn't far from the house. For a while they'd messed around with the toilet, flushing it by dumping buckets of water down, but hauling the water from the well was more effort than it was worth, and then there was the unfortunate and never again to be mentioned incident with the clog. At first the whole outhouse thing seemed gross, but now Dawn's used to it.

"You okay in there?" Spike asks after a minute.

"Uh-huh. Just trying not to pee on my hand." It's harder than you'd think, peeing on a stick, but she does the best she can and pulls up her jeans, then steps back outside. The sun set half an hour ago. On the porch, Xander and Wesley are standing in the doorway, waiting.

"Well?" Spike says, impatient.

"It's not instant," Dawn tells him, pulling the test back out of his reach when he tries to take it. "It's, like, three minutes or something." She didn't even stop to read the package, so she's not sure.

"Hey, come on," Xander says. "We want to know, too."

"You guys are worse than I am." Dawn and Spike go back to the house, and by unspoken agreement they all go into the living room and sit down, the test clutched tightly in Dawn's hands until she can convince herself to set it on the table.

"The test might not work anymore," Wesley reminds them. "And there are certainly false negatives..."

"It's okay," Dawn says. "Whatever it says, it'll be okay." Spike is holding her hand, though, and she's squeezing his a little bit too tightly. "Where did you get it?" she asks Wesley, wanting to fill up the time.

"Last month, when we went into town on a supply run." Calling it a town is a joke; it's like one street, tiny, with a couple of little stores. It's pretty far away, too, but sometimes they run out of stuff that they need. Wesley is sitting up very straight, which is a) funny, since he's, you know, _gay_ , or at the very least bi -- Dawn's still kind of unclear on how that works after the whole Willow coming out thing, and b) disconcerting, both because he only sits like that when he's going all formal, which he does when he's worried about something, and because it makes his pinned sleeve where half his arm is missing stand out in sharp contrast against the couch, which is a dark navy blue. Not that they're all not used to Wesley's one-armed status at this point, even him. (He does complain about phantom pain sometimes, but he says that's normal.)

"It was nice of you to get it," Dawn says, keeping her gaze on the scuffed knees of her jeans and determinedly _not_ looking at the test.

"Dawn." Spike doesn't say her name like that very often; she looks up at him. "Wes and Xander care about this, too."

"I know," Dawn says, frowning. They know that she knows, right? She looks at both of them earnestly. "I do know."

"Otherwise, we wouldn't have..." Xander trails off and rubs the back of his neck. That's pretty much the most he's said about the whole attempted-impregnation thing -- he always starts a sentence and then lets it sort of flutter away like a moth, hoping they'll know what he's saying without him actually needing to say it. Which they usually do.

Dawn's stomach is tight with anxiety. "I don't think I can look." The test is on the table far enough away from all of them that they can't look into the little window.

"If it's negative, we try again," Xander says.

"Or it means the test is too far past its sell by date," Wesley adds.

Dawn moans, "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"No, you're not," Spike says. "If you don't want to look, I'll--" He leans forward, reaching, and Dawn, acid burning at the back of her throat, gets up and runs for the bathroom, knowing that she really _is_ going to be sick.

She leans over the toilet and throws up, shaking, and then Spike is there, one hand on her back.

"There," he murmurs, soft and soothing, making her feel better. "I'm right here."

"I really _hate_ throwing up," Dawn says, wiping her mouth. Spike hands her a damp washcloth when she gets up and she rubs it across her forehead and the back of her neck gratefully. "Gross. Sorry. I think it was just the heat, and being so excited." They walk back toward the living room.

"Or it could be for another reason," Wesley says. And he's holding the test in his hand with Xander close beside him, and they're both smiling like dummies.

"Is it?" Dawn asks, stopping, afraid to go any closer in case it's not true.

"You're knocked up," Xander agrees, with that little half-smile that means he's joking and not sure anyone else will get it.

She's shaking again -- or maybe still -- but her own smile feels wide enough for all of them. "Really? I am?" Spike's arm is around her waist, and he reaches out and takes the test from Wesley, holding it where she can see it, and yup, there are two little lines, clear as anything. "Oh wow. I can't believe it."

The three of them lead her over to the couch and sit her down; Spike on one side, Xander on the other, and Wesley sitting on the table in front of her. Spike's arm is still around her, and Xander's hand is on her arm, and Wesley isn't touching her at all, but his eyes are shining with all kinds of things.

She wants to hug all of them, but instead she just sits there, smiling, with the test balanced on her knees and the bitter taste of acid on her tongue and a tiny, warm life growing inside her.

 

 

End.


End file.
